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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143355">Keepsake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier'>Lewdsmokesoldier</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Genji/Angela [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Masturbation, Sexting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:28:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25143355</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Angela’s a busy woman. She relishes every chance she has to be with Genji, but sometimes the time away can be too much for them to handle, especially for a man with his rapacious sexual appetite. Fortunately, Angela’s willing to send him some “visual prompts” to keep him satisfied while they’re apart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Genji/Angela [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Keepsake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was originally posted in July 2019 as part of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/17579483?view_full_work=true"> Overwatch Tales.</a></p><p>Many thanks to <a href="https://twitter.com/Fritz3D?lang=en">Fritz</a> for the <a href="https://twitter.com/Fritz3D/status/1144010578828115970">visual inspiration</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Genji’s erection wouldn’t go down.</p><p>To be fair, he hadn’t exactly been trying very hard to stop from getting worked up. When meditation ended and his Master didn’t have immediate need of him, he often found his thoughts wandering. Sometimes, they lingered on the fractured state of the world, on the lives of his fellow Overwatch agents, on the way he’d gotten a little <em> too </em> into that one discussion with the monastery archivist about whether or not early 21st-century anime was still relevant (it was) or whether it was worthy of being investigated to see if it might provide insight into the Iris (it was).</p><p>But often, his musings returned to Angela. On where she was, what she might be doing, <em> how </em> she might be doing. He knew he shouldn’t worry overmuch, as she was more than capable of taking care of herself and fussing would only lewd to her worrying, but he sometimes couldn’t help it. Especially when he began remembering some...less wholesome elements to their relationship.</p><p>Perhaps it wasn’t fair to characterize it that way, since there was little in the world more worthy of veneration than love. How it was expressed was a different matter entirely, for love drove people on to deeds both great and foolish, both healthy and destructive. But it wasn’t that case with Genji who, once so careless with his affections, was now devoted to the woman who’d captured his heart. The fact that she had remarkable control over his dick was a pleasant side-effect, and part of his immediate dilemma.</p><p>Put simply, Genji was in the mood to fuck. Angela was the only person he <em> would </em> fuck, and wasn’t anywhere near him to <em> be </em> fucked. She’d gone off to some medical conference in Peru, thankfully a less chaotic venture than her humanitarian work, but it still meant she was half a world away. Genji was not a needy man. Their relationship was based on mutual reciprocity and he respected Angela’s independence enough to not hold her back from what she wished to do, or felt like she <em> had </em> to do. And he had ways around the issue, after all.</p><p>They’d exchanged salacious letters in the past when they were far apart, often with increasing intensity and boldness that rose, swelled, crescendoed and relaxed in a pattern that very much resembled the dynamic of an orgasm. Unsurprising, given that by the end of each such set of correspondence they were generally masturbating as they wrote to each other, informing their counterpart how strongly they were enjoying themselves thanks to the lewd words on the paper. Sometimes, they hazarded to send pictures, though this was rarer—both out of care to avoid the possibility that such images might fall into unscrupulous hands (Zenyatta sometimes rifled through Genji’s mail, to the student’s annoyance and the monk's amused satisfaction) and to allow the separation from seeing each other’s naked visage to build so that, when they <em> did </em> reunite, they could take their time exploring each other again.</p><p>But there were occasions when they couldn’t hold back. Every topless image Angela sent, every dick pic Genji gifted her, provoked an even more furious round of self-pleasure which was in due course relayed to the sender along with thanks for the excellent climax. At that point, a lull would general settle over their communications, before inevitably starting again. </p><p>Who said that monogamous, faithful, long-distance relationships couldn’t be fun? Not Angela, and certainly not Genji. Which was why he wasn’t altogether worried about this particular rousing of his libido. Angela expected a diminished ability to send and receive letters during the conference, so they’d planned ahead with a special dispensation. Namely, that he would give her an image and a note to keep her “occupied”, and she would do the same for him. He knew quite well how much she enjoyed upward angled-shots, as if she were kneeling below him and looking above at his exposed dick, hefty balls, and self-confident smile. The prime position to worship every inch of his manhood, and an image that would doubtlessly entertain her when she had time to herself.</p><p>He had no idea if she’d touched her gift, or rather herself, by this point. But he had yet to see what she’d given to him, and there was no better time than the present to find out what it was.</p><p>He shuttered the door to his chamber, unhooking his mask and unlatching the clamps that held his crotch-plate in place. The gift, packaged in unadorned brown paper and labeled “Genji”, awaited him on his dresser, and he unbuttoned his suit lining as he stepped towards it. With a sigh, he watched his thick cock slip out from between the gap, his nuts held back by another button until he undid that one too and they flopped out alongside his length. Rapidly hardening in anticipation of what he would see, Genji reached a hand out towards the present, hooking his finger under the seal and pulling back to let the note out of its container.</p><p>Genji had expected a letter, or perhaps a separate piece of paper with whatever image he’d been given attached. Instead, all that he found was the image itself, the sight of which forced him to pause and gape.</p><p>Angela was utterly, completely, <em> gloriously </em> naked, seated on the edge of a grey, smooth surface, either a table or a chair. The specifics of the setting didn’t concern him: he was rather more engrossed by her full, round rear, the twin globes framing her ass and smooth, delectably accommodating pussy lips. He’d enjoyed enough of both holes, whether he was atop her and slowly spreading apart her butt on his dick or pounding furiously away at her folds from behind or anything in between, to know that they were <em> exactly </em> as tight and warm as they looked. Her soft thighs urged him to grab them and sink his fingers into the skin just as strongly as if they were right in front of him, reminding him of just how many times such a hold had been a prelude to greater pleasures. So too did the sight of her breasts, tight and delicate, bring to mind how they swayed and dripped with sweat when they were really going at each other. </p><p>But her posture and expression truly elevated her present to him from a mere pinup to something far more enthralling. Her left hand rested just above her rear and her head was turned to the camera, her fingers gliding over the skin without pressing into it. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, he’d say that she was frowning, but he recognized that look. Angela wasn’t upset, at least not with him: rather, she was <em> begging </em>. The slight downturn of her mouth wasn’t a communication of sadness, it was the shape her lips took just before she pleaded for his cock when she was on her knees, when she entreated him to “put it in already” if he dawdled in teasing her with the head of his cock at her folds or rear. Even her furrowed brow told Genji that she was focusing more on taking on a pitiful, heart-and-dick-wrenching demeanor rather than anything resembling true sadness.</p><p>If that was her intent, then it worked more than she could have ever hoped. He could barely focus on perusing the message she’d left. It wasn’t much, not the long-winded string of teases and lascivious teasing that he’d expected. But it was all the better for its simplicity.</p><p>
  <em> I miss you, Genji. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> -Angela </em>
</p><p>It wasn’t a long message, but it captured his attention and fired his imagination in its ambiguity far more than he’d expected. He slapped the letter onto the furniture he’d found it on, keeping his gaze locked on it, breath already shallow even though he’d just barely started, and he was stroking his cock with one hand and folding his balls with the other. The sensation of his smooth, metallic fingers on his dick wasn’t in any way similar to hers or even to his one still-organic hand, but it provided an enjoyable friction nonetheless and there was absolutely no way he’d stop now to take off that part of his exoskeleton. </p><p>Genji clenched his jaw, rolling his nuts between the fingers on his robotic right hand, carefully applying pressure on and between the orbs, cock jumping and twitching each time his hands slid against each other, leaving a vibration that rolled up through his digits onto his length. He leaned forward, resting his head against a beam and raising himself up onto his toes, still staring at the picture of Angela.</p><p>Her words brought to mind all the times they’d previously exchanged lewd letters, all the promises that they’d fulfilled to properly show reverence to the other’s form when next they met. In spirit his picture could do to her what hers was doing to him, to allow her mind to sink back into the memories of grinding bodies and desperately chased pleasure and of being undone, of him cumming into and onto her in every way he could. Genji was already awash in the fantasy of what Angela would do when she came back from the conference, his mind transforming the hand jerking his dick and the fingers gripping on his scrotum into whatever sensations most matched his imagination.</p><p>Of how Angela would fall to her knees and welcome how he smacked her across the cheeks with his cock so hard that her cheeks would be left red and sticky and she’d be panting and cock-drunk, eager to swallow his length.</p><p>Of how she’d bury her face into his nuts, sucking and licking and kissing and paying tribute to that most magnificent ballsack, the source of the cum that she could never get enough of. </p><p>Of how she’d grind her crotch against his face as he licked her quivering folds and ate up her orgasm with a smile.</p><p>Of how she’d turn the tables and push him onto his back, spearing herself on his dick and riding him into the floor, the mattress, wherever she could get her hands on him.</p><p>Of how Genji would erupt, filling her up with all of the hot, gooey spunk she’d been dreaming of getting, his dick twitching and his balls tensing as his cream coated her cunt.</p><p>He was already feeling the pressure build, the tension growing in his crotch at the flurry of movement from his hands and the thoughts trapping his mind. He wasn’t concerned at his lack of stamina. After all, how could anyone expect him to endure this for long, the promise of doing whatever he wanted to Angela when they reunited and finding out what she would want to do with him? No one would find fault with his eagerness to peak, though no one would know that he was doing it to judge him anyway.</p><p>And so, without shame or restraint, Genji turned his cock towards the center of the room, released his grip, and came. The load he’d been envisioning shooting into Angela fired out onto the wooden floorboards, long, thick streaks of cum lancing across the planks as his shoulders shook and his legs quivered from the effort of working his length and erupting so spectacularly. He could barely remain standing, but had the presence of mind to thrust out his crotch while cumming to avoid getting any on his suit. He was rewarded with a fresh wave of hot, tight pleasure, his nutsack swaying in time with the pulses of his cumshot as he spent his seed all over the floor.</p><p>As the rush of bliss faded, an aching made itself known in his arms, the product of such a furious, high-energy masturbation session. Genji let out a sigh of relief, his heartbeat slowing and breathing returning to normal, and glanced back at the image of Angela on his dresser.</p><p>When he saw her again, he would have to be sure to show her just how much he had appreciated it.</p>
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